Goodbye
by Sarakime
Summary: On the final train ride home, a certain Slytherin is having very regretful thoughts.


"Goodbye, Hogwarts..." Draco Malfoy near silently whispered as he glanced warily out of the compartment window of the Hogwarts Express. A tear and shred of sadness overcame him, neither of which he knew he possessed. He knew he'd miss this school, though he often complained of hating it. Even with its crackpot teachers and waste-of-breathe students, it was all he had.

His parents had both been sent to Azkaban not long after they were discovered helping the Dark Lord plant Death Eaters in Diagon Alley. Ministry Officials, including Arthur Weasley, had flooded into Diagon Alley, making sure that the elder of the Malfoy's went to Azkaban, for good. Of course, after that day Draco was thrown suspicious looks and pointed glares wherever he went. Some out of fear, some from hatred, and the rest from just plain uncertainty. No one really knew where Draco's loyalties lied. He hadn't been branded with the Dark Mark, but he also wasn't showing up at the Order's Headquarters begging for redemption.

Truthfully, Draco didn't want to deal with any of it. He made himself more comfortable in his compartment. He'd purposefully left his friends to wonder where he was. All he wanted to do was be alone and think. He recalled how his father had always told, almost pushed Draco into believing that he should follow in his mighty steps, becoming a Death Eater and ever faithful servant to the Dark Lord. But Draco didn't fancy being anyone's servant. _Wasn't it Father who said that only Mudbloods should be servants?_ Draco reasoned. Of course, his father meant on completely different terms, but Draco didn't care. He wanted an excuse to not be a Death Eater. He didn't want to end up as his father, first hiding from Ministry, and then being put in Azkaban, left to rot.

"Anything from the trolley?" said the lady coming up and down the aisle. 

"No, I'm fine," Draco responded, being brought out of his contemplation.

Draco let his mind wander away from his father and back to Hogwarts. The only thing he had.

Now, he'd have to go home to his empty Manor, with no one to spend time with but his stupid house-elves. He'd have to wake up every morning, with absolutely no companion to say anything to.

As the train started it's path, gently huffing and puffing smoke, gliding along the track as the sun shone upon its steel doors, Draco rested his head against the window. He slowly watched Hogwarts turn into a small dot of nothing, barely focusing his eyes on the grass passing as the train gained speed. His vision of the scenery became a distorted blur, as he couldn't focus his eyes on any particular thing. Slowly his eyelids dropped down and Draco could only hear his heart and breathe, moving in tune with the motions of the train.

Quite suddenly, the student in the next compartment began laughing. Two male and one female teasing and being cheerful with eachother. Eventually they all calmed down and he heard their names slipped into casual conversation.

"Honestly! Harry, Ron, don't be so dense!" the girl said in between laughter.

"Well, excuse us, Hermione, for not being as smart as you!" said Harry. 

Draco couldn't really understand what they were talking about, but it was quite obvious they enjoyed each others company. _Well of course they do. Granger, Potter and Weasley are best friends,_ Draco debated in his mind. For a few seconds, Draco envied what they had. Their friendship, their laugher, their carelessness at the given moment. But just as quickly as it had jumped into his head, the thought buried itself deep in the many wanderings of Draco's mind.

Draco reminisced about how his pathetic attempts to make the three unhappy had never worked. It appeared the three were meant to be happy. To be together. Unlike himself and a certain member of that trio.

Draco knew he had always secretly fancied Hermione. But with all the things Draco's father had said about Muggle-borns, he knew he could never show his true colors. He was afraid of hinting it in any way, so instead he chose to torture her, verbally. At any given chance, he'd make fun of her, and her friends. He knew this wasn't exactly the way he could ever win her over, but he had decided long ago he could never have any sort of relationship with her. He had given up.

Even though the Malfoys never give up, and always get what they want, this was the exception. Draco was, in his opinion, the exception to the Malfoy family. He wasn't a Death Eater, and had even harbored feelings for a Muggle-born.

So, now as he listened to her laugher filling his ears, ringing in every inch of space left in his mind that thoughts and memories weren't invading, he was happy. Happy that she could be happy, even if it didn't involve him making her happy. He brought up memories in his head, of her, at her best. At her worst.

He remembered the time in Third Year when she'd mustered up the courage to slap him. He wasn't expecting it, but he did remember how fiercely beautiful she'd looked. When she got that bold, daring flame in her eye he knew she couldn't be stopped. He remembered in Fourth Year, when she gracefully descended the steps into the Yule Ball. She was positively gorgeous. His jaw had dropped a full two inches before he'd composed himself. He also recalled her after the Yule Ball when she was crying, as her stupid Weasel friend seemed to have ruined her night. _How I wanted to go over to her and comfort her,_ he thought regretfully.

Truth was, Draco was regretting a lot. As he fluttered his eyes open and looked out the window as the now pastel colored sun slowly dipped out of view, he was regretting more than he could ever imagine possible. He wished he had done something. He wished he wasn't such a coward, and that he had told Hermione how he felt. He didn't know when he would ever see her again, if ever. His heart was ready to explode. It was rapidly being drowned in regret and memories of her shining face.

His eyes started to glisten as he slowly lifted his hand trying to stop any tears from escaping his eyes. Closing his eyes and sighing deeply, Draco rested back down on the window. All these thoughts were making him become increasingly tired and worn out. He couldn't keep it in as a few tears detached themselves from his eyes. Sighing again, and realizing how alone he's become in the world, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, to have maybe a little break from all these swarming emotions.

Too soon, however, Draco awoke. He felt streaks of tears burn his face forever. He wiped them away and sat up.

Taking in calming, cleansing breaths he put on his face of no emotion. He put on his old mask of madness and hatred, which really covered up loneliness and regret of the worst kind. He twisted his face into a sneer and placed the best 'Malfoy look' he could upon his features. Slowly, he stood. The train was becoming increasingly slower, the landscape outside becoming clearer. They were close to King's Cross.

He crossed his compartment and opened the door. In a quick stride, he strolled in front of the compartment next to him, the one containing the "Trio of Goodness." He caught Hermione's eye and mouthed a "Bye, Hermione," rather unlike himself, and then strode off as fast as he could.  
The train rolled to an end at the King's Cross Station, where Draco was admitted off the train and into the Muggle word.

He quickened his pace and began searching for his driver. He didn't want to see the teary expressions of mothers and fathers meeting with their children after so long. Draco didn't want to see it, because it was something he didn't have.

"Goodbye, Hogwarts Express. Goodbye, Hogwarts..." Draco murmured for the second time that day as he pulled open the door of his driver's car and sat down. "Goodbye..."


End file.
